


Let me show you my world

by Saluzozette



Series: Enjoltaire [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Fluffy fluff all the way!, Idiots in Love, It's Christmas time !, M/M, Modern Era, So they got to be nice with each other, They're idiot and they're in love, because oh boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:52:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8924767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saluzozette/pseuds/Saluzozette
Summary: “I hate Christmas.”Grantaire winces at the bitterness in Enjolras's voice, because not for the first time, he just can't agree with him.It's Christmas, and Grantaire has to show Enjolras why he can't just hate it altogether.





	

“I hate Christmas.”  
Grantaire winces at the bitterness in Enjolras's voice, because not for the first time, he just can't agree with him.  
They're sitting in a café on a busy boulevard. Although it is only six in the afternoon, the night has already fallen, and they can watch the swarming life of Paris through the colorful prism of the window. It's raining outside, but it doesn't stop the late Christmas customers from filling the streets and the shops. The air outside must be thrilling with noises and smells and emotions.  
“You can't say that.”  
Enjolras's eyes are full of disdain when he looks at Grantaire.  
“Do you really need me to go through my twelve pages long slideshow on why I hate Christmas again? Because I would, but I'm not sure you could stand it.”  
“Please,” Grantaire retorts with a mocking snort. “You know I could listen to you all day long, Apollo. Don't try me.”  
“Oh, I know you could. You would let me talk as long as I want only for the sake of trampling on my ideas.”  
“I only trample on what I don't agree with. It is the main point of having a debate, O fearless leader. Otherwise, you would just have a monologue.”  
The pout on his friend's face is just too pure for Grantaire to be able to hold back a laugh. Most of the time, being in love with Enjolras is a painful and endless chain of questions, but sometimes, like right now, it just comes as easy as breathing.  
“Would you be so kind as to let me show you why you can't hate Christmas altogether?”  
“I doubt you can change my mind,” Enjolras assures with a shrug. “But it won't hurt to give it a try.”  
“Awesome. I'll just need you to close your eyes and listen to me, ok? It won't work if you don't put your mind into it.”  
“Are you going to hypnotize me?” Enjolras asks, amused, but he closes his eyes nonetheless. “Because you know this is just as much bullshit as Christmas, right?”  
“Will you shush?” Grantaire can't entirely erase the fondness in his voice. “I'm not trying to mesmerize you, you idiot. I'm just trying to make you see the world as I see it for once.”  
Why can't they always be like that? Why can't they just get along all the time, instead of the endless scorns, arguments and insults? Life would be so much easier.  
It's fascinating the way Enjolras doesn't even try to cheat and keep his eyes close. He really trusts Grantaire. He hasn't ask why he had to do this. Grantaire can't help the happy feeling in his guts at the mere idea that the leader trusts him this much.  
“Are you ready?” He eventually asks. “I really need you to do as I say.”  
“Yeah, yeah, let's do it already. I can't stay much longer like that without falling asleep, Grantaire, so do your thing.”  
“Ok. First of all, I need you to forget it's Christmas.”  
There is a frown on Enjolras's face, and it takes all Grantaire's will-power not to kiss him right now.  
“But I thought...”  
“Just do as I say. Forget about Christmas. Forget about the capitalist's bullshit and the Christian appropriation of a foreign celebration of blah blah blah. Forget about everything there was on your slideshow.”  
“Easier said than done.” Enjolras snorts. “Do you know how much time I've spent on this thing?”  
“I don't care. Just do it.”  
“Ok, ok, jeez, no need to be rude. There you go.”  
“Perfect. Now tell me what do you hear.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Tell me everything you can hear, right now. Listen, and tell me. Anything is good.”  
Enjolras is frowning again. Grantaire sinks back in his chair, afraid that if he doesn't restrain himself, he will lean toward his friend, just enough to reach his hand, brush a stand of hair out of his closed eyes, caress his face. He can't let himself do that.  
“I really feel like I'm being hypnotized right now,” Enjolras eventually grumbles. “I can hear someone laughing somewhere in the café. There are conversations, but I can't make out what is said. Is the bartender doing the dishes? A dog is barking outside, and the rain is falling hard. I can hear horns, and engines. I can hear your breathing. Grantaire, you're breathing so loud!”  
“Shut up,” Grantaire retorts, good naturally. “Is that all?”  
“I think so? Someone is also listening to their music way too loud into their headphones, Joly would get crazy... Is there always that much noise around us?”  
“Pretty much. We just don't take the time to listen. Ok, now I would like you to tell me what you feel. Externally, I mean. With your skin or...”  
“Yeah, I get it. It's warm in here.” Enjolras says after a mere second of silence. “Not too warm. Just enough to be happy to be inside rather than outside. It smells good, and comfy... What? Grantaire, I can feel you grinning from here.”  
“It smells comfy?” Grantaire can't help but laugh. “For real?”  
“Shut up. I'm trying to do what you told me to. Give me some credit here.”  
“Yes, sorry, sorry. Keep going.”  
“I can smell food and coffee. The seat is soft and comfy... Yes, comfy again, just shut up. With the noise around I feel like I don't ever want to leave.”  
Enjolras is beautiful. Grantaire has always known that, of course, but tonight, his friend is particularly stunning. The look of concentration on his face is so intense it makes Grantaire wishes he was the one Enjolras was focusing on like that. Not that he really need anything to feel that way anyway, but still. Grantaire just wishes he could stop his friend right now by taking his hand and telling him everything his heart holds back. He wishes it could be that simple, but it's not. It never is when it comes to the both of them.  
“Is this ok, or do you need me to tell you more?” Enjolras eventually asks, and Grantaire realizes he hasn't been listening for at least two minutes. “Because I'm running short on feelings, right now.”  
The artist wishes he could run short on feelings too, but it is quite the contrary. He shakes himself out of his contemplation.  
“Ok then,” he decides. “I want you to open your eyes and look at the street. Tell me what you see.”  
There is a light smirk on Enjolras's lips when he does as ordered, but it doesn't last, and that's how Grantaire knows he has succeeded. Enjolras is stuck in awe. It's funny, in fact, because he has lived in Paris for almost seven years now, and has been spending every Christmas since here, but he still looks like he's seeing it for the first time, like he has just been struck by lightning.  
Grantaire leans on the table, watching the revelation on Enjolras's face silently, promising himself he would paint it later. It's too bad he doesn't have his camera with him, because he would really like to immortalize it.  
“What do you see?” He asks softly after two minutes of silent worship.  
“I see lights,” Enjolras answers, and he can't seem to be able to tear his eyes away from the window. “I see blurred colors reflecting on water, and... Is that snow? When did it start snowing?”  
“When your eyes were close, duh. Don't get too excited though, it won't stick.”  
“It's beautiful... Grantaire, is that how you see the world? Like everything deserve to be painted?”  
“I try to.” Grantaire shrugged. “I don't always succeed. In fact, it is only when I see the world this way that I wondered if you may be right. If maybe the world is still worth saving.”  
Enjolras finally draws his gaze away from the streets to dart it on him, and Grantaire shivers under this intensity of it. His friend looks like he's seeing him for the first time as well.  
“You're supposed to wondered that because of my speeches,” Enjolras eventually says fondly, after what felt like a lifetime. “Do you know how much work I put on them?”  
“Oh, I do too, to be honest. I wasn't joking, earlier, when I said I could listen to you day in day out. I wouldn't come to all the meetings if it wasn't because you're unable to shut up.” Grantaire teases, because everything is just too serious for him right now.  
“Alright, nice, I don't feel attacked at all right now.” Enjolras pouts.  
“Come on, Apollo, nobody in their right mind would listen to all your ranting as long and as hard as I do.”  
“Are you calling yourself insane?”  
“I'm an artist.” Grantaire shrugs. “I'm pay to be insane. It's part of the job description.”  
Enjolras laughs, and that's the exact moment Grantaire's evening slides from awesome to absolutely fantastic.  
“I still hate Christmas, for the record.” The leader eventually adds, good naturally. “But I guess not everything is to throw away. Wow, you did mesmerize me, didn't you?”  
“If I did, it was for a good cause. I'm just happy I could show you something for a change.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Well, with all your speeches, you're always depicting me a world I can't see on my own. Something I can't even start to comprehend if you aren't here to help me. It was only time I show you a bit of my own world.”  
Enjolras is now smiling, and Grantaire might actually be dying. He wants to punch himself in the heart to stop feeling those feelings. It's too painful, goddammit!  
“Your world is beautiful,” The leader declares as he reaches for Grantaire's hand. “Thank you for showing me.”  
“I... uh... Your welcome, I guess?” Grantaire splutters awkwardly because _Contact! Contact! Abort the mission! _“Would you... uh... Would you like something else? I could use a drink.”__  
Enjolras just smiles fondly and declines.  
“I have to go.” He says, and did Grantaire's world just slow down a little bit? “Thanks again. I... I hope we can do that again, sometimes?” He asks, looking faltering for the very first time as far as his friend can recall. “It was nice.”  
He's already up and yes, Grantaire's world is stopping alright.  
“Yes, sure, whenever you want.” The artist agrees, way too fast for it to be seen as casual, but if the blinding smile he gets from Enjolras is of any indication, it was the good thing to say.  
“Ok then,” Enjolras concludes. “It's a date then.”  
He's gone before Grantaire has the smallest chance to think of anything to retort, and that's a chance, because the only thing Grantaire's mouth would have allowed to pass his lips would have been alongside the lines of: “ _Wait, is it?! OMG is it a date?! Enjolras, you beautiful bastard, what are you saying here?! _” but as Enjolras is already gone, all Grantaire can do is let his face hit the table and whine, both in absolute awe and utter terror. Because now he's going to spend the two days left until the next meeting wondering if Enjolras has really mean what he thinks he meant, or if that's just his brain toying with him, and if he should ask for clarification or just roll with whatever Enjolras will do, and OMG, did Enjolras really just asked him out on a date?!__  
Grantaire looks through the window, and blames it all on Christmas.


End file.
